The faces of our country
Locked in stone, of pale white marble,
The expressions of their lives
And the remembrance of their days
Gazing out upon the vibrant green grass
And the delicate cherry blossoms
Just as they have been in years past
The country has come a long way
Since each other their times
The buzz of phones and the vroom of airplanes
But still the barking dogs and the pouring rain
They stand tall of people knowing their memory
Unable to speak, but still the voice of the country
And that of the world they shaped
The wrinkles locked in their eyes
Of the aging they have known
Watching their American dreams
As the statues they have become,
The presidents of the past look out at their work
And their child all grown up.